A Resolved Life: a more authentic ending
by Key Prints
Summary: A Resolved Life: a more authentic ending to The Earth, my Butt and other Big Round Things. Chapters 26-29. Enjoy! Note: I was not sure how to add the title to the list of book titles so I selected Tangerine because the story had similar themes.


**A Resolved Teenage Life**

Chapter 26

As I strolled back to my room, I heard Byron's cell phone go off to the tune of Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down. I locked my bedroom door and grabbed my French book, then began to study for my test.

"Virginia!" Byron screamed as his heavy footsteps hit the wooden hallway floor, each one moving closer to my bedroom door. He jiggled the handle and then pounded. "Open this fuckin' door!" then pounded even harder.

_I'm so glad I locked my door!_ I could hear my heart begin to pound harder.

"No!" I screamed back at him as my heart felt like it was going to burst through my lungs. _Why he was so angry? _I knew it wouldn't be long before I found out.

"Didn't I fuckin' tell you to stay out of my business?"

I shut my book, stood in front of my door trembling, watching the wood and door knob vibrate.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Shawn just called me! You went as saw Annie Mills!"

I could feel the blood rising to my skin. "Yea, I did! And Fuck you!"

He pounded harder. "You fat bitch! What gives you the right?"

"You know what? I can talk to anyone one that I want to." My voice cracked as tears filled my eyes. My blood was on fire fueled by the hate I felt for him.

"You're lucky that you're behind this door! I'd pound your fat face in!"

Then I heard the bash, he kicked the door and I heard the crack of the molding by the lock.

"If you break that door, dad's going to kill you!"

Then I heard the pounding of his footsteps go down the hall, away from my door. I sat back down on my bed and began to cry. _Was I wrong to go see Annie? And I don't care if I was wrong. _ I pushed my French book to the side sobbed uncontrollably. My brother's hateful words were pumping through my veins. My veins ached so much. My brother is a lie, a lie to me and our entire family. _I hate him! I hate him!_

I wiped my eyes and the silver finger holes of my scissors on my desk caught my attention. My blood ached. I thought back to what Dr. Love said about hurting my body, but he doesn't understand. He doesn't live in my family. He doesn't have a rapist for a brother, or my perfect family unit that he lives outside of. I got up and slowly grabbed the scissors, opened them up, and sat back down on my bed. I stared at my wrists. Then I began to slice, over and over again, deeper, deeper, until…the blood began to trickle out. It was painful for a moment, but then it felt so good. The blood oozed out of my right wrist, I began to cut my left wrist. The blood drizzled down my hands and onto my pink, orange and white flowered comforter. The drippings faded among the flowers, almost nonexistent. Then I wiped the scissors on my comforter and set them back into the container for next time. I noticed my vanilla colored carpet had a trail of blood leading to my desk. _I'll just tell her that I cut myself shaving. _

Chapter 27

I listened at my door and didn't hear anything, not the TV or music. Byron must have left. _Good!_ His bedroom door was opened and he wasn't in there. I headed down the hall to the kitchen and found the Doritos and a Pepsi. I looked around the corner into the living room, and then noticed a bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table with two cans of Pepsi. _Byron can explain that to my parents._ The clock on our microwave read, 5:46. My parents would be home within the hour. I went back to my room with my dinner and locked my door.

My wounds had stopped bleeding. The ache was gone. I went to my dresser drawer and pulled out my long sleeve black sweater to hide my slashes.

"Is anybody home?"

I heard my father's voice as I put on my sweater. Then I opened my door a crack, "In here, dad," I yelled and shoved a couple Doritos into my mouth, then opened my French book to study.

My door squeaked as it opened. My father was standing there. "Where's Byron?"

"I have no idea" I placed another chip into my mouth as I stared at the pages of my French book.

"Why is there a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know."

"You have no idea?"

"No, how would I know? I glanced over at him, then at the cracked molding, and back to my book.

I reached over and grabbed my Pepsi off of my nightstand and without turning to look at him, I heard him come into my room.

"What's that on your wrist?"

I felt a chill it my stomach. "What are you talking about?" I sipped my Pepsi and then set it between my legs.

My father grabbed by arm without using a lot of force and pushed up my sleeve. "This! Why are there cuts on your wrist?" The tone of his voice was filled with a frightening concern that I'd never heard before.

"I accidently cut myself." I pulled my arm out of his hand.

"You're lying, Ginny!" He grabbed my other arm, this time with more force, and pushed my sleeve up. "Both arms? What the hell did you do to yourself?"

My eyes became moist; I pulled my arm back and stared at my textbook as a tear dripped onto the page.

My father sat down on the bed and used his finger to lift my chin and turned my head toward him. "Why would you hurt yourself, Ginny?"

"Lots of reasons, dad," I continued to sob.

"Is this the first time?"

I shook my head, no.

"Okay." He took a deep breath, "did you do this today?"

I nodded.

"Something happened here today, didn't it?

I nodded.

"Byron's gone, and there's a half empty bottle of liquor on the table. Can you tell me what happened?"

"We got into a fight."

"About what?"

"Byron found out that I went to see Annie Mills yesterday."

"Who's Annie Mills?"

"Jesus, dad! You know! 'The ordeal!' The girl Byron raped!"

"Why did you go see her?"

"Because it was the right thing to do, I wanted to apologize for what happened to her. I felt really bad about what he did to her. No one deserves to be raped, and let's call it what it is, it's not date-rape, its rape! And I hate him!"

"Now, I understand." My father just sat and hugged me for a few minutes. "We'll talk about this when your mother gets home." He then stood up and headed toward the door. He put his finger on the molding. "Why is this cracked?"

"Because your son wanted to pound my fat face in and my door was locked."

My father stood in the doorway with tears in his eyes. "This family is falling apart. We need to get some help," he said softly.

"What about mom, she's Dr. Phyllis Shreves, teen psychologist, top in her field?"

"I think it's hard for her to see. She doesn't see her children like she does her patients."

"So what are you going to tell her?"

"We're going to have a talk tonight when she gets home. I think things have gotten way out of control here."

"What about Byron?"

"We'll talk to him later," he said with deep concern in his voice.

I felt a small sense of relief.

Chapter 28

There was a knock on my bedroom door.

"Virginia," my mother's caring voice filled my room.

"It's opened."

She stood at my door looking deflated. "Can you come out and talk to us?"

"Is Byron home?"

"No, I called his cell and he didn't pick up."

"Your father should be back in a few minutes. He went to pick up a pizza."

"He told me what you did to yourself." She came over to the bed. "Can I see your arms?"

"I pushed up both of my sleeves and held out my wrists."

"Why would you do this to yourself, honey?"

"Because it feels good!" I snapped the words like a whip. "It lets the pain out."

"I see this in my practice at least twice a week, and now, my own daughter." Her voice thinned.

I heard our penthouse door shut, and I felt an icy chill of fear come over me. _Byron!_

"Pizza's here!" My father called out.

_Thank God! And just in time!_

We sat down at the dining room table. There sat a large cheese and pepperoni pizza and two glasses of red wine at each end and a diet Pepsi in the middle for me. The silence was deafening.

"Would you like some more wine," my mother asked my father.

"Yes, thank you." She got up and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass and went into the kitchen.

"Ginny, when your mother comes back in here, I want you to open up to be honest with us, okay?"

I just rolled my eyes. "Do you really think this talk is going to change anything?"

"It has to Ginny. It has to." He took a sip of his wine.

My mother was back with another bottle of wine in her hand, apparently, she needed it.

There was silence, an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like eternity.

"Ginny, would you please show your mother your wrists?"

"I saw them," she glanced at my father while filling her wine glass and sat down.

"Okay, I have to ask you," my father's eyes staring like lasers at my mother, "have you seen this in any of your patients?"

"Yes, I have." She nodded while taking a sip of her wine.

"Well, what do you do with your patients who do things like this to themselves?

"Well," She paused for a moment and sipped her wine again. "They go into therapy for a little while, and sometimes long term therapy. And sometimes the family goes into therapy depending on the issues."

I turned to my mother. "Are you saying that I need therapy?"

"No, of course not!" My mother said.

"Phyllis, damn it!" My father pounded the table and raised his voice. "Would you listen to yourself? Do you even hear yourself?"

"Yes, but this is our daughter we are talking about. She doesn't need therapy!"

"Ginny, tell us, why do you hurt yourself?"

I looked at my father for a moment and then at my mother. "It just feels better. It makes my other pain go away. It's not that complicated, really. And it helps."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from my own daughter." My mother took the last sip of her wine and refilled it. "And what kind of pain are you in? We have a wonderful family and you have everything you could ever want!"

"Really! Is that what I have?" Suddenly, I was enraged with both of them. I could feel with words simmering in my throat.

My mother took another sip of her wine.

I pointed. "Well, let me tell you what you have!" "To start, your daughter feels better when she cuts herself! Your perfect son raped a girl! And your oldest daughter moved to the other side of the planet to get away from you, 'The Queen of Denial!' That is what you have, Dr. Shreves!" I yelled with tears streaming down my face as I got up from the table.

My eyes darted over at my father. The shock must have rendered him speechless.

"And dad, as for you, do you have any idea how much it hurt when you told me how pretty I would be if I lost another 20 or 30 pounds? I never forgot that you know!"

"Ginny, I didn't say that to hurt you! That was never my intention. You're a beautiful girl!"

"No I'm not. I am fat! Fat is not pretty!"

"Honey, you are a beautiful girl," my mother said with concern in her voice.

Just then, I heard our penthouse door shut. _Byron!_ My mind was racing with fear and anger couldn't decide which emotion was going to win.

Byron stood at the kitchen doorway his bloodshot eyes. I glared at him like a torch.

"Byron, would you like some pizza?" My mother asked.

"No, I'm good," he replied in a tired voice."

"Have a seat," my father gestured.

"No, thanks" he replied then stared at me as I stood in the dining room doorway. "Gin," he pointed, "you need to stay the fuck out of my life! You got that!"

"Hey!" My father quickly stood up and yelled.

"And you need to stay the fuck away from all girls! Ha! They wouldn't go near you anyway!"

"Both of you stop! Stop it! Do you hear me?" My mother yelled!

"Do you want to hear what she did?" Byron pointed to me. "She went to see Annie Mills yesterday?"

"We know, honey, we know!" My mother smirked.

"I just want to know, how would the both of you feel, if it was me or Anais who got raped? You don't have to answer; it's just something for you to think about. And let's not forget that people go to jail for rape!"

Byron was turning red as fire.

Both of my parents had shameful shocked looks on their face.

"Sit down, Bryon." My father gestured to the empty chair.

Byron pulled out a chair and sat down at the table and put his face in his hands. He reeked of booze.

"We need to get some help." My father sat back down with tears in his eyes. "Phyllis, you must know of a therapist that deals with family issues."

My mother stood up at the table. "I do, but I am not going to call anyone I know," my mother replied with shame in her voice and tears running down her face.

"Are the both of you done screaming at each other?" My father asked.

"I guess," I nodded.

"What about you, Byron?"

He turned to my father. "That depends on if she stays out of my business."

"Gin, did you hear what he said?"

"I heard him."

"Well?" My father asked.

"It depends on what kind of business it is."

Byron nodded. He knew what I meant.

"Hopefully, we can get an appointment soon. We need to open the lines of communication in this family," my father said as he cleared the plates off the table and went into the kitchen.

With my eyes filled with fire aimed at him, "I never thought I could hate you, but you made it easy," I said then headed back to my room.

Chapter 29

I pulled my notepad out of my desk and began to write.

_Dear Anais,_

_A lot happened today. Bryon and I got into a huge fight because he found out I went and saw Annie Mills, the girl he raped. I couldn't' help myself. I had to go talk to her about what Byron did to her. She appreciated my visit and she is doing better than I expected._

_Dad found out about the fight and told mom. Then at supper we had a big talk. I couldn't help myself there either, I told both of them how I felt about this family. Bryon came home in the middle of it and we started to fight again. I now see him for what he really is._

_At the end of all the fighting, dad made the decision that we going to family counseling. The "Queen of Denial" is going to counseling. Do you believe it?_

_I wish you were here!_

_I miss you!_

_Love,_

_Gin_

_P.S. Maybe the counseling will help. After tonight, I don't know how much worse it can get._


End file.
